


Self-crossed Lovers

by EnkeliJaPerkele



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Hate Sex, Idiots in Love, Public Sex, Sex, mentions of - Freeform, semi public sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 06:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnkeliJaPerkele/pseuds/EnkeliJaPerkele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glorfindel and the Lady never really got along, but is there more to it than it appears? Of course there is, or this wouldn't be a fanfic, would it? I know it's a rubbish and vague summary, but really, I don't wanna give up too much. It's got our fave golden elf in it, so that's the main reason why you guys should be interested in reading it :P Pretty please? Reviews will, of course, be much appreciated :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-crossed Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this few months ago, but the Lady's (who shall not be named in this one, but might be named in possible future fics...) a very dear and old character of mine. She's actually 17 years old, as she was born in my head when I was 10 and reading The Lord Of The Rings for the first time. She really wasn't a literary idea in any form at the time, she merely was who I was when I played pretend in Tolkien's world with my the best friend, and in the years she changed and shifted to what is now. This isn't in any way the first time I try writing something with her in it, but it's the first time the work wasn't aborted, and I kind of give the credit for it to Glorfindel, since he's the main character in this, and the main point of view. I always worry about Mary-Sue and the likes, and I know how easy it is to fall there, but really today, as a 27 (in 14 days XD) yo young woman, the only thing I'm really interested in, when I write my female characters, is to write strong interesting ladies, with a story (which won't be touched much here), a mind of their own, and a personality I like. I know I have a typecast when I write females. I'm not very good at writing frail, emotional, delicate women or girls, 'cause that's not really what I am, and I often struggle at understanding that kind of character enough to try and write it, 'cause I feel I wouldn't be able to give them enough credit as my own creatures. And this makes me very conscious I might fall and end up with two feet in Masy-Sue Land, so I don't often publish. But this I'm actually quite proud of.
> 
> So without much futher ado, I'd like to thank:
> 
> First and foremost: J. R. R. Tolkien fro creating this great world and mithology I used as canvas for my OC, and so often as an escape from the reality of life. All the due credits go to him, my only creation is the Lady here depicted.  
> My friends Mirdjan Hyle, who stuck by me while I shaped and reshaped this, and gelped me get out of a couple of tight spots (and really stans way too much girl crap from be for being a straight guy XD), and Blackgrrrl and Drusilla, who betaed this for me. Thanks guys, seriously <3 Even if you're not on here.

**Self-crossed Lovers**

Glorfindel gasps as he feels her moulding into him. It's not the first time they do this, but it's usually the result of harsh words and anger, fast, dirty and shameful, and there is rarely the time, or even the will, to let lasciviousness fall onto them. After all, they never liked each other. Since the first blasted time they met, it has always been strong words, irritation and disagreement, to the point that all they try to do when possible is avoid or ignore each other. It has been like that for at least a hundred years, surely more. Possibly a couple of centuries, he doesn't really know. When you have lived through the most of two and a half ages (not to count the few millennia during the Years of the Trees) it's hard to really keep count of something as small as years. Even with a couple of millennia of a gap between the First and the Second ages… God, he's old. And she's so young compared to him. A child of the Third Age, barely more than a thousand years old. Yet, she has on him an effect so strong he can barely keep his wits when it comes to her.

Their first time had been after one of many councils in Elrond's chambers, where she was an emissary of the King her father. And of course they ended up at daggers drawn, because no matter how sensible she would make her points seem, in his mind she was too young and rash to really know what really went on outside the borders of her realm. After Elrond, always the diplomat, had called a couple of days reset before the two of them managed to pull out real daggers, in his anger Glorfindel had sought her to get her to see how wrong she was in her position, but to his annoyance it had took him the best part of an hour to find the woodland elleth, and he had been way more aggressive than intended. The result had been a spectacular fight that came to an end when she tried to leave and he had stopped her by grabbing her hand and kissing her forcefully. That had been an unexpected turn of action. The resulting angry sex against a column of the balcony where they were standing even more so, but it had been mind blowing enough to have him question himself, not that he managed to find any answers.

The following Council meeting had been extremely polite, while still tense, and the two of them had avoided looking or talking directly at each other, and while Elrond was usually very observant he had seemed to miss the real reason, and had complimented him about trying to show some restraint while dealing with his aversions.  
For a the most part of a year they had managed to avoid each other. After all she was supposedly promised to Elladan, even if it was pretty clear that the two young lover were acting as such mostly to please the respective fathers. They would have been much better off as partner in mischief rather than in life, but sometimes politics got in the way of love. They liked each other and liked spending time together (even under silken bed sheets, as Elrohir pointed out while mocking his brother), and that was more than most elves could hope for. But anyway, even if she hadn't been promised to another, Glorfindel strongly disliked her, and had no interest in having anything to do with her, no matter how mind blowing angry sex could have been. Or at least that had been the position he was keen on keeping.  
And so, as he avoided her pretending to do so for the sake of Elladan and for his still strong aversion to her character, she seemed to simply not acknowledge his existence if not needed. It hadn't been hard, all things considered, since quite soon after their "altercation", as he had come to call it, she had left to return to her wooden realm, where she was to remain until the beginning of summer. She was a warrior and heir to the throne, and winter was a harsh season in the woodland realm. Her and her guard would have been needed back at home to fight the dark beasts that threatened their kingdom.

It was late spring when word came that the Lady and a small portion of her guard would have been back just in time for the summer celebrations. While it was glad news for most of the people of the Last Homely House, Glorfindel dreaded the moment the wooden elves would have set foot in Imlàdris.  
On the early morning of the last day of spring he was scouting the eastern border of the Hidden Valley when he found himself attacked by a small company of orcs. They were probably on their way back to their rotten holes when they had seen him, since it was hardly past dawn, and he found himself in a slight disadvantage, being one against ten. He had been wounded, his left arm scraped by a blunt orc dagger, and the loss of blood, even if not massive, had slightly slowed him down. He had just pierced the last beast's heart when he heard the unmistakable noise of steal against bone and the thud of a head falling to the ground behind him. He turned, ready to fight, only to find her standing there, her long knives dripping orc blood, a corpse in front of her.  
"It was about to stab you in the back. I doubt Lord Elrond would have appreciated his seneschal being killed by such filth. Come, my guard is near, we'll escort you to Imlàdris."  
He had been reprimanded by his Lord for scouting alone, and had been forced in bed for a few days to rest and regain his strength, no matter how much he had protested about it. The twins mocking him about being saved by, as they called her, his nemesis, didn't help his mood.  
It took him a couple of weeks to seek her and try to thank her for saving him. Trying, of course, since the attempted apology resulted in another spectacular fight. Things seemed to be back to normal. At least until the end of summer, when another fight brought them back to square one, panting, sweaty and dishevelled against a wall as they came down from the high of their orgasm.  
This time it wasn't something that Glorfindel could ignore. Few days later, when he tried to talk to her about it she snarled back to him that there was nothing to talk about. More fighting ensued. More lusty sweaty sex. And it wasn't the last time.

Snow came early, and the mountain pass became soon impracticable, which got the woodland elves stuck in Imlàdris for many more months than expected. The Lady was extremely annoyed, and edgy, worried about her homeland. She knew that it was well protected, but she would have felt much better if she were there at her post. To relieve the tension she and her people felt, she asked if she could train her guard alongside Rivendell's own. Elrond gladly gave permission, and Glorfindel found himself around her more often that he would have liked. That the training style of her guard was so different from his own wasn't anything if not unhelpful in relieving the tension amongst the two of them.  
Many more times they found themselves fighting over small details, and the more childish and petty the fight were, the more likely they were to end up clasping to each other in a dark corner.  
Glorfindel had to admit it was staring to affect him in a different way than he perhaps would have liked. He found himself throwing glances at her. Noticing the soft curve of her waist under the formal gown she wore on some evenings, the full one of her chest held tight by her training attire. The delicate line of her neck, the thickness of her dark hair, a trait that he knew came from her Noldo mother, rather than from her Sindar father. He found himself more likely to ignore a snarly remark, and less likely to throw the first one.  
And she also started to be less feisty and maybe more accommodating. Everyone in the household seemed to notice it, and Glorfindel found himself being complimented about finally acting like an adult by Erestor.  
But it was Gildor who planted the seed of doubt. It figured, his old friend had always been a very good observer, and knew him very well. He apparently had been studying his friend for a while, and had noticed more subtle changes in him than simply avoiding aggressive confrontation. All it took was a simple question.  
"She looks beautiful tonight, doesn't she?" he had asked, joining Glorfindel one night in the Hall of Fire during a celebration. And the golden elf, without thinking, had found himself answering that yes, yes she did, before realising the implications of it.  
He had avoided her for a while after the realizations of that evening, leaving the twins in charge of everyday training, and scouting more often than not the borders of the valley, and it was once again Gildor who found him exactly where he had been attacked by orcs months earlier.  
"You know, she's not really promised to Elladan. It's just what everybody hope will happen. I strongly doubt anyone can really force someone like those two to do something they don't want to do. And that might just be why they have been dancing around it for the past 300 years, when most of our people bond soon after maturity."  
There was no point in arguing his attraction to her to Gildor, and Glorfindel knew it.  
"It's not my place to steal my young lord future mate. They might not be bethroted yet, but they are a good match, and a lot of good will come to both us and the sylvan from a union."  
"They might make a handsome couple, no arguing there, and surely, politically it's a great union. But I'm not sure that's what will make her happy. And you are every inch a Lord as the young Pedrahel is, perhaps more, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower."  
"Those are times long gone, friend. Let us not dwell in memories, and rode back for supper."  
But the cat was out of the bag, and for the next fortnight Gildor words would come up into Glorfindel's head. Not about him being a Lord, he stopped being one more than one Age ago, he now was simply Glorfindel, seneschal of Imlàdris, but the part about her not being happy. That's why, on the night of the winter solstice, when he saw her wandering away from the Hall of Fire, he found himself following her. He had spotted her on a balcony looking east toward the mountains, looking into distance. He remained hidden between a column for some time, watching as she stared into the night, nothing but her sheer dress to protect her from the freezing winter wind.  
The silence had been broken by her, after long silent minutes.  
"I am not in the mood for a fight, Lord Glorfindel."  
He was surprised about being discovered, and slightly hurt by the words. They hadn't fight in a while, after all, and he had hoped the point where they could barely speak to each other without any escalation was in the past.  
He had taken few tentative step on the balcony and she had spoken again.  
"Don't be surprised I spotted you, I live in a country where you can hardly let your defences down when alone. I guess old habits die hard, even in a place of blessed peace as Elrond's home I knew someone was there as soon as you arrived."  
By this point they were shoulder to shoulder, and she had turned to look at him.  
"How did you know it was me?"  
The only answer he got from her was a knowing yet sad smile. She had shivered slightly as she turned her gaze back to the mountains. That made him realise that she might have been a beautiful and strong maiden elf, but she was wearing barely anything if not a thin layer of brocade. He removed the first layer of his clothes, and laid the warm velvet of his tunic on her shoulders.  
"It's a cold night, and you're wearing many layers less than me, if I still know anything about gowns." He had smiled to her. She had gratefully nodded and pulled the cloth closer to her body.  
They remained in silence for a while, when finally Glorfindel had spoken, unable to stay silent any longer.  
"We need to talk. I can't ignore what happened between us, not anymore. I could after the first time, but..." His mouth was shut by a gentle touch of her fingers.  
"Please, my Lord. As I told you, I am not in the mood for a fight, and I feel this line of thought would bring us on that path way too fast. Me and you, we're not made for open discussion of what is bothering us. We're fiery souls, with little patience for words and compromise. I deem more wise to ignore what is in the past and start anew. After all, shall I bond with your Sire son, we might be forced to spend even more time together, and I know it aggravates you."  
Once again her words had stung. Not so much their meaning, but the choice of words and tone she used. If nothing else, she had always been honest with him, no diplomatic wordplay, no subterfuges, no avoiding any matter.  
"I'm not here to fight, it was never my intention. But I cannot ignore..."  
"Please my Lord. I beg you. Do no bring this matter up, it can't but end up in just another fight, and tonight I am already bothered by sad thoughts as it is. Don't add to my worries."  
Glorfindel hadn't known what to reply to that. They had remained there for several more minute, the golden elf at loss of words, his companion closed in a pained silence.  
"I shall bid you a good night, my Lord, and a glad Solstice. You should go back to the Hall. My company is not a good one for such a merry night, and I shall not impose it any longer."  
As she said those word, she had given him back his tunic. It was when she turned to live that he grabbed her by the hand.  
"Don't go." He had said pulling her toward himself "There is no one I'd rather spend this night than with you." He said, and as she raised big surprised eyes from their joined hands to his face, he had leaned down to kiss her.

The kiss has started almost innocently. Glorfindel after all just acted on pure instinct, and is trying to show her what his treacherous lips can't seem to be able to say. It was supposed to be a mere touch of lips, but as he leaves her hand to put his on her waist, he feels her arms locking around his neck, her body moulding into his. Still, as the kiss deepens, it lacks the sexual subtext that all of their previous ones, and it's more sensual, languid.  
And then, as sudden as it started, the kiss is broken as she pushes herself away, flushed.  
"This is… this is wrong Glorfindel." She whispers, lowering her gaze and moving back, still showing no sign of leaving.  
"How can something so good be wrong, tell me?"  
"We hate each other. We never liked each other, from the moment we first met, and it never got better."  
"I wouldn't necessarily agree with that. This here seems much better to me." Glorfindel smiles at her as he takes one step forward, trying to capture her gaze, but she avoids him.  
"No it's not. We'll just fall preys of our lust once more, and then what? We'll be at each other's throat the second we'll have the chance."  
"It doesn't have to be like that…"  
"No it doesn't. And it wasn't! I grew up worshipping you, don't you get it? You were my idol, and I wanted to grow up to be just like you. Never mind Lùthien or the great ladies of the stories, it was always you. And then I met you and you treated me like a damsel in distress, and you looked down on me, and I hated you, Valar know I hated you. And you were so similar to what I had imagined yet so different… because you were every inch as great and powerful, as gentle and delicate as I imagined, but not with me, never with me. Wasn't I enough for you? Wasn't I enough to gain the great Balrog slayer's respect? Was it me being an elleth, was it because of my sex? Of my age? Was it…"  
She is rambling now, with the strength of a spring river, and Glorfindel doesn't know what to say to stop her. He would have never guessed that her predisposition to him came from something like this. He has always thought her arrogant and brash, he never thought it could be anything else. It's when she asks whether she wasn't enough that he shakes out of his shock. Speechless, he does the only thing he can think of to shut her up and show her how wrong she is, and he kisses her forcefully.  
This time he is the first one to step back, holding her by her arms.  
"Never, there was never a moment when you weren't enough. If anything, it was the opposite. You always were too much for me. You are too bold. Too strong. Too brash. Too blunt. Too driven. And I just didn't know how to react. The first time, when I supposedly saved you from that spider, you just lashed at me so fast that I didn't know how to react and I just lashed back. And from there on, I acted like a child, and I just kept it up and pumped myself about it because I never knew how to approach you in any other way. I… I never imagined you though I thought you unworthy. You are a fierce and strong warrior, and you'll be a great leader for your people, if your time shall ever come, Valar forbid anything from happening to your father."  
She gives him a teary look, and he's not sure whether it's the result of her earlier frustration or of his speech. In the still of the night, under the gentle light of a winter half moon, she is a sight to behold.  
"I was so stupid. I never realised…"  
This time she starts the kiss, and she's hesitant as she lays her hand on his chest. She has never been so delicate and frail as in this moment, as Glorfindel lays his hands on her waist.  
As they part he lifts a hand and caresses her lips.  
"You are so beautiful. I never told you, but you are."  
She kisses his fingers and smiles, then she pulls him in for another kiss. He can see that the sad light in her eyes is not gone, but he also can see a spark that wasn't there before, before their lips meet again. He closes her arms around her and pulls her even more close, and he feels her smiling into the kiss. He can feel the gentle caress of her tongue on his lips and he grants her access, pleasantly surprised. Usually it's all tongue and teeth, but this is gentle, slow and passionate. As they are parting he leans in and steals another fast sloppy peck on her full lips.  
"Well, it seems you were right all along, my Lady. We didn't need to talk about it." He smirks.  
"Oh, do shut up, you insufferable elf." She replies, but she is smiling, and she doesn't move from his arms. She actually leans in to gently nibble on his lower lip, and he laughs and steals another fast kiss.  
"You make me feel so young." He then says, turning serious. She doesn't reply, possibly at loss for words, and he leans down into another lusciously slow kiss. He could spend the whole night like this. He tells her. She laughs.  
"Hopefully not necessarily like this. You are an amazing source of warmth, but you were right, it is a cold night, and I'm not wearing much." There's definitely a mischievous spark in her eyes now, and he grins, and he kisses her.  
"Well, my chambers are not that far away. We could see if we could manage to have you wearing even less."  
She full on laughs, throwing her head back.  
"You big oaf, your chambers are on the other side of the house."  
He laughs, too.  
"Well, yes, yes they are. But I have miruvor and a bottle of your favourite white wine there."  
"Someone is trying to get me drunk I see." She doesn't ask how he know what's her favourite wine.  
"Will I need to?"  
"Have you ever needed to?"  
As he doesn't know what to answer to that, Glorfindel merely lowers his mouth on her, and this time the kiss is deep and lusty, and her hands are in his hair, gently pulling the golden strands. He growls lightly and bites her lower lip.  
She laughs once again, and he finds himself realising that he has never seen her laugh this much in the many years he's known her.  
"Didn't you say something about a room and some spirits? Or are you going to take advantage of me here, as I were nothing but a maid?"  
"Most surely not. And I do have to apologise, far too many times I did that."  
"I never complained. Now, wouldn't you take me to that room of yours my lord?"  
She is smiling earnestly, and he nods, slowly releasing her from his embrace. She takes his hand smiling, and he leads her swiftly through corridors and staircases. As they're passing the Hall of Fire she stops and pulls him behind a column to steal another kiss. As they're breaking apart he can hear familiar voices coming closer.  
"I didn't see Glorfindel leave."  
"He probably left to search for a bit of fresh air Erestor, you know how he is."  
A third voice chimes in, mischievous.  
"Yes, what Elrond said."  
"What?"  
"Leave it Erestor. Gildor is acting like he know something about Glorfindel that we don't for the past two weeks, and he won't bulge. He probably found out what colour our seneschal likes for his undergarments."  
The voices fade in the distance and Glorfindel can feel her snickering in his neck.  
"Tell me I didn't just hear the Lords of this house talking about your undergarments."  
"I am honestly not sure what they were talking about. I should probably be worried, though. It never ends well when they decide to make me their little leisure project."  
This time she full on laughs.  
"Don't worry. I will protect you from those big bad lords."  
Glorfindel laughs too, and starts again walking toward his chambers. He likes this new laid back version of her. It's probably what everyone else close to her always got to experience, but he never had a chance to experience it before this night.  
They finally reach their destination, and as soon as they're inside, she's back in his arms, and the old passion is back, the same urge, just without the anger, and instead of a fight it's a game of seduction that leads them to his bedroom, and to the large bed in the middle of it, leaving a trail of clothes behind, and it's like nothing they've experienced before.


End file.
